


“Jean’s got a show tonight.”

by oklahomieeee



Category: The Roaring Twenties (1939)
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Jean Sherman (mentioned), Lefty (Mentioned), M/M, Partners with Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:21:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27876798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oklahomieeee/pseuds/oklahomieeee
Summary: George Hally feels as though Eddie Bartlett no longer sees him as a partner.
Relationships: Eddie Bartlett/George Hally, Eddie Bartlett/Jean Sherman (implied)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	“Jean’s got a show tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I don't expect anyone will ever read this, but I'm posting it. 
> 
> Anyways, my first language is not English, so, I'm sorry for the mistakes I may have made. 
> 
> And, I hope you enjoy this little thing <3
> 
> One IMPORTANT thing before I let you go. The setting might not be clear in the fic. So, it takes place in the office that you see in the scene before George figures he is going to take Eddie out. Yknow, the "You must've been reading about Napoleon"-scene. 
> 
> Also, I don't know how 20s suits work, so if you're a 20s suit expert or a 20s clothing expert, I'm sorry.

“Over the desk?” George asked, eyeing where he usually spent his time playing cards with Lefty these days, as he had been demoted to office-boy. 

Eddie barely spoke to him anymore about official business. When some important decision making came up, Eddie wouldn’t even ask for his opinion. It was as if the business was no longer a partnership. He was left in the dust while Eddie took off with the cabs.

“Yeah, will ye hurry it up?” Eddie asked, speaking fast and sounding frustrated. And he better stay frustrated, George thought as he watched his ‘partner-in-crime’ throw his coat over the couch where their goons had been sitting some minutes before, leaving him in his suspenders and white shirt. He rolled up his sleeves revealing his forearms. George looked away and butted his cigarette in the ashtray on the mantelpiece. 

“Askin me to drop my pants right now...” He murmured.

“Yeah, but ye don’t have to,” Eddie replied. George looked at him sharply. For a second he reminded Eddie of a cat. “Don’t give me that look, George, now what’s botherin’ ya?”

George hesitated. “It’s like we ain’t partners.”

Eddie slowed down and watched him. They’d had this conversation. They’d had it for weeks. “We’re partners,” He replied. “Why do you make me hit you over the head all the time? We’re partners. Now, will ye drop yer pants?”

George gritted his teeth and spoke slowly: “Sure, sure, I’ll drop my pants. I’ll drop em real good.” He followed it up by taking off his own jacket and removing his bowtie, then he unbuttoned the three top buttons on his shirt.

A long silence fell over the room. Eddie eyed him knowingly. “You want to squawk, squawk … Come on George, out with it, yer worse than any dame.”

It made him stare sharp again, giving him that cattish look. “Ah sure, sure, but since I keep squawking I’d be expecting you to already know what I’m about to say. And don’t be calling me no dame, I’m no broad.”

“George,” Eddie said and moved over to the desk and found a seat on it. He found a lighter and toyed with it in his hands. “The business is going swell,” he settled on saying, and put the lighter back where it had been standing.

“I know but that ain’t what I’m talkin’ about, it’s not what I’ve been talkin’ about. Ya ain’t hearin’ because you don’t give a lick about me nor the partnership no more, ain’t it so?” George bit out. He was down to an open shirt now, revealing the undershirt, and his dark pants were now unzipped, showing his interest in what Eddie had been waiting for. Eddie's eyes went upwards to the slight chest hair peeking over the shirt and to his slightly revealed neck and ear where ungelled hair was curling just a wee bit. 

George let out a breath and shrugged feigning contentedness, “Ain’t that just swell, the business has never been better, and your shutting yer ears.”

“I’m hearing you as clear as day,” Eddie cut in and cleared his dry throat. “Half the apple hears ya.”

“Then give a hoot will ya.”

“I am,” Eddie spoke and spread his legs a little, frustratedly beckoning George to come over. “You’re killing me here.” He ran his hands up and down his thighs, feeling the fabric of his pants.

George’s sight slipped between his legs but he quickly avoided the spot, instead, distracting himself by biting the nail of his thumb and studying it. 

Eddie’s hands felt their way close to the front to his sizable bulge which was straining against his pants. George didn’t budge from his place by the mantlepiece, having started to find interest in his pinky. 

For the next couple of seconds, although it felt like eternities, only slight heavy breathing was permeating the heavy air.

“You shut your kisser,” Eddie said and put a hand on his zipper. “And now you keep biting yer fingers like someone who never grew outta suckin’ his thumb.” He held back a victorious smirk as George finally looked at him, the tip of George’s ears were burning. They always did. “Tell me, George, what will it take for you to use yer oral prowess on something other than yer hand?”

George scowled as he always did, “I thought you said you wanted me over your desk.” His hands went to his hips as they always did. 

Their eyes met. 

“That’s still on the table.”

George let his pants drop, stepped out of them, and went over only to get pulled down into a deep kiss which left him breathless between Eddie’s strong thighs. Eddie pulled away, pulled George forward, and started at his neck. George let out a soft hum. His right hand went up into George’s hair disheveling it, just like George hated. At the same time, he tried moving his knee against his partner’s cock.

Eddie breathed something into George’s ear. Annoyingly flushed, George complied.

They moved quickly, and soon George, with his underpants pulled down to his knees, was gripping the edges of hardwood, accidentally scattering the cards he’d been dealing earlier on the carpet before him. Slick fingers felt his cold backside. Whatever he’d been so angry about slipped away as Eddie prepared him. After a couple of minutes, Eddie was in, pressing him into the desk, and then he moved. George squeezed his eyes shut, feeling that truly now the city was hearing them. He tried biting into his white-knuckled hand to keep silent. Lefty was just outside the door, or maybe some other stooge. Had they locked the door?

“Eddie,” George tried voicing up but what came out was a choked low moan as Eddie hit that spot inside him. Eddie grunted and huffed against his undershirt-clad back.

A warm, sweaty hand found its way onto his lower back. Eddie pulled out. A disappointed sound left George and he turned his head annoyed, and he’d be embarrassed about his state had he been of sound mind. 

“On yer back,” Eddie said while feeling George’s thighs, somehow giving George goosebumps. He jokingly patted his ass.

“You want the desk to break?” George said. Still bent he eyed Eddie who looked as disheveled as ever and at some point he’d removed his shirt. His undershirt stuck to his chest.

“I want ye on yer back. And I can’t reach ye when I give it to ye like that.”

“Ah you’re a real gift alright,” George said and embarrassingly let himself be led by Eddie out of his bent position and into another deep kiss distracting him for a minute as the next thing he knew something was pushed off the desk and clunking against the carpet. It must’ve been the lighter or a lamp or a picture frame, but he couldn’t make sure as Eddie laid him out on his back and was yet again making his space inside him and jerking him off. The ceiling blurred above him as Eddie continued thrusting but it took only a second before George came, spilling into Eddie’s hand. Eddie followed suit with a soft swear to God.

“Boss?!” came the muffled sound from outside the door. A few knocks. George turned his head quickly to Eddie and pushed him off him the best he could. 

“Dropped the ashtray,” George answered loud enough while watching Eddie who was busy tucking himself in again. “Leaving?” 

“Jean’s got a show tonight.”

He was out the door before George was back on his feet. 


End file.
